I know what she wants, leaving me here tied to this chair facing him. She wants me to see him broken, destroyed.
I don't know how long we drove. Maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour. Time lost all meaning somewhere between the abduction and now. But we're in some kind of old warehouse now, all rusted metal beams and crumbling concrete. The air reeks of rusted metal and mold, thick with the stench of decay. It burns my nostrils with every breath.
The space is cavernous and empty, our breathing echoing off distant walls. A few bare bulbs hang from fraying wires overhead, casting harsh shadows that make everything look even more nightmarish. In the corner, I can make out what look like old shipping containers, stacked haphazardly and covered in graffiti.
"Ah, sorry to keep you waiting. I had to handle some logistics."
The woman who took us, Damien's mother, says this while placing her hands on his shoulders. I stare at where her skin touches his, every muscle in my body screaming to rip these ropes apart so she'll stop touching him.
"It's quite remarkable, really. That someone could love him."
She studies me like I'm bacteria under a microscope, her brown eyes cold and analytical. There's no warmth there, no humanity. Just calculation.
I meet her gaze without flinching, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing my fear. "You wouldn't understand love if it was explained to you in crayon."
Her lips curve into something that might be a smile on someone else. On her, it looks predatory.
A second later she turns and signals to a man standing a few yards away. He approaches and, without a word from Marzena, hands her a syringe.
All the blood drains from my face.
"No," I breathe out, the word barely audible. "Don't—"
Before I can take two breaths, before I can beg or bargain or do anything, the needle plunges into Damien's neck. His sound of agony rips through me, tearing at something fundamental in my chest.
"Easy there, sweetheart. Just a little adrenaline so you stay awake for the show." She strokes his hair like he's a pet, her fingers carding through the dark strands with mock tenderness. "Can't have you passing out on us. Where would be the fun in that?"
"Get your claws off him!" The words tear out of me, raw and furious.
I don't know everything this woman did to him, but I know enough to understand how her presence alone will destroy him. And right now, all I want is to protect him from the wave of emotions about to crash over him.
"Spunk. I like it. If Elena had the same fire, maybe she'd still be wasting oxygen on this planet."
I freeze at the name that just left her mouth.
Before I can ask how she knew my mother, Damien's eyes fly open. Even though it's only for a split second, I see the panic swimming in them.
I try to signal to him with my eyes that I'm okay, that nothing happened to me, but his breathing becomes ragged, and she notices too.
"How many times did I explain that weaknesses must be torn out at the root?" She moves back to stand behind Damien, her hands resting on his shoulders again. "Same with Berna. I suppose it's how the Universe balances things. Made you good at cutting into flesh but terrible at managing basic things like feelings."
"Let her go, Marzena. She's not who you need." Damien tries to straighten in his chair.
I look at his mother with her ash-blonde hair twisted in a knot at the nape of her neck, pearls in her ears, red manicure flawless. You'd never guess this woman abused both her children. Never imagine she's capable of such cruelty.
"Oh, but I do need her. Because you're going to resign your position and transfer all your votes to me, son. Otherwise, your precious wife will discover where you learned all your talents with a blade."
I look into his eyes and shake my head slightly. He won't do this. Not for me.
"You won't let her go regardless of whether I comply." Damien's voice carries resignation.
He knows this woman better than anyone, and now that I look at her, he's right. She'd never keep her word.
"Oh, you're right. But it depends on you—how beautifully you beg forgiveness for your betrayal seventeen years ago determines whether I torture her for hours or not. Because I have all the time in the world, Damien. The GPS signal from her ring has been jammed for thirty minutes now."
At her last sentence, a tremor runs through Damien's body and he drops his head.
"Tell me what you want to hear."
